Charmed in Charms
by LiLy-saLvatore-cuLLen
Summary: "For some odd reason, Professor Flitwick preferred to seat his students alphabetically according to first name. Do you know what this meant? It meant that I, Lily Evans, was to be seated by James Potter...Each year the seating arrangement lingered. Each year I sat next to the detestable James Ryan Potter. Each year I fell a little more in love with him."


Every single witch and wizard who attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (even the staff) would agree that Albus Dumbledore was an intelligent, wise, talented and kind old wizard; indubitably the greatest wizard of all-time (at least since Merlin). The students (and staff) could also concur that he was the craziest, most off-his-rocker, old coot whom could also potentially be living in his own imagined world the majority of the time.

I agreed with both descriptions. I absolutely adored Dumbledore. His very presence had made me feel secure and accepted in all my seven years at Hogwarts; especially towards my final years when effects of the War began to become frequently noticeable, even in school walls.

However, I could attest to a professor even more insane than Dumbledore; a professor I had come to know in my many years involved in Advanced Charms: Professor Filius Flitwick. Normally, every teacher in the Muggle world, every professor in the wizard world… they all sat students alphabetically according to last name. By rights, I should have been sitting next to Amos Diggory (D-E), my last name being Evans and all.

This was not the case with Filius Flitwick (who either way, was seated according to the letter F). For some odd reason, Professor Flitwick preferred to seat his students alphabetically according to first name.

Do you know what this meant?

It meant that I, Lily Evans, was to be seated by James Potter, as there were no other Js, no Ks, and I was the only L in the advanced placement Charms class.

"He just wants to change the usual, mix things up a bit," you may say.

No. Professor Filius Flitwick was out to get me. Somehow he knew my distaste for all things Potter and used my favorite class against me.

His principles. Merlin.

This seating arrangement had never irked me until 5th year, when James Potter entered Advanced Placement Charms for OWLS, remained in it throughout 6th year, and continued for NEWT level.

Each year the seating arrangement lingered.

Each year I sat next to the detestable James Ryan Potter.

Each year I fell a little more in love with him.

Each year, I was charmed in charms, just _that much _more.

_Fifth Year, January 1976_

I walked into my Advanced Placement Charms class, incandescently happy; not only were we reviewing Cheering Charms today (one of my favorites) but Gryffindors no longer shared this block with Slytherins like they had before Christmas Holiday. We would instead be sharing this class time with Hufflepuffs.

This meant Amos Diggory would be in my class.

Because of our last names, we would undoubtedly be sitting next to each other, he being a D and me an E. Alice laughed at my red cheeks.

"What? You should be excited too. You'll probably get to sit next to Frank. There's no Os in our class."

"Yes, but there are other Ls, Lily."

"Like…?"

"Have you forgotten? Remus Lupin takes these advanced courses as well. 'Longbottom' and 'Lupin' are sure to be seated next to each other before 'Longbottom' and 'Prewitt' are."

I blew my fringe out of my face.

"Oh yeah. I'm sorry, Alice."

"No problem, Girl. You take full advantage of being seated next to Diggory. Maybe he'll ask you out! You'll be working together on in-class projects… maybe even study together… or… "study" together…" Alice giggled.

I blushed horrendously.

"Stop it!" I playfully slapped her arm.

"Don't say you don't want it to be so, Lily Evans." Alice winked, and we took our seats at the front of the class before the professor entered.

Right at the announcement of the hour, Flitwick bobbed in, his head barely reaching the surface of our tables. After three minutes of watching him climb his staircase to reach his podium, he tapped his wand to get our attention.

"Welcome, welcome, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, to your second term of fifth year. You have all been selected based on your abilities and talents in the Charms field, and scheduled to begin or continue participating in the Advanced Charms Placement. Congratulations! Oh, hello, Miss Evans!"

"Good afternoon, Professor." I blushed. I was one of Flitwick's favorite students.

"Today, since we have new students and a new coupling of Houses, I've decided to arrange a seating chart so that you may all get to know one another more fondly, and work with students that are perhaps not in your own House."

Hello Mr. Diggory.

"Unlike other Professors, however," he continued, "I've decided to arrange seating by first name, as it is certain you probably sit next to the same people in every other class! How clever, yes? Now, as I walk by the table, I will announce the two students that are to be seated there. Pay attention! Ahem, hem. Now then… let us begin…"

Flitwick climbed down (another three minutes) and began pacing through the narrow aisles between the tables. He started at the first table on the far right of the classroom.

"Alice Prewitt and Amos Diggory."

Alice prodded me and I saw her apologetic face as she gathered her things and walked over to where Amos had just sat down. Alice glanced over again as she sat.

Flitwick proceeded to the table behind Alice and Amos'.

Minutes passed.

Towards the center of the classroom, he finally announced my section of the alphabet. Only…

"James Potter… and Lily Evans!"

_James Potter? Why in the name of Merlin was James Potter in Advanced Charms? He wasn't even _good_ at Charms! Was he? Who am I fooling? James Potter is good at everything._

Like the berkish arse-wipe he was, James sniggered with his friends and approached "our" table. With a flourishing bow, he pulled out my chair and gestured with overdramatized grandeur to my seat. The other girls in the class giggled flirtatiously, and the other two Marauders (obviously Peter Pettigrew was not advanced material) tried to silence their idiotic chuckles.

"After the lovely Lily Evans." He winked at me.

"Sit down before your head weighs you down, Potter. Just don't break the chair with its immense poundage." I mumbled.

"Ouch, I'm wounded, Evans. Don't prod a bloke's ego so."

"You could use some deflating."

"I would hear of no such thing. In case you haven't noticed, I'm quite well-liked in these parts of Scotland."

"Yes, your overly enlarged, air-filled head has provided such lovely hospitality to those bees who can no longer find their hives."

"Cor, Evans. Or maybe because I'm a rather decent commutable distance from a Flower."

I rolled my eyes. He'd used the "flower" on me various times.

"You should probably consider shutting that unfortunate crater in your face you call a mouth, Potter, before I hex you so hard you'll never have children."

"Noted." Potter smirked. "Didn't think you thought about my…"

"Finish that sentence. I dare you." I glared.

Potter opened his mouth to continue when…

"Remus Lupin and Sirius Black!" I heard distantly. This distraction provided me some reprieve from Potter, as he whipped in his seat and gave both his friends the bird and maturely stuck his tongue out at them for being able to sit next to each other. Remus and Sirius proceeded to flutter their eyes and pucker their lips.

I had no idea what they were on about, but Potter turned back around and sunk down into his seat, trying to scoot away from me. I wasn't complaining.

Instead, I chose to search for my other two friends who of course would be sitting next to each other: Marlene McKinnon and Mary MacDonald. It wasn't fair. Either way, they would always sit next to each other. Why couldn't I be Amaryllis Evans, like my grandmother? I'd still be a flower… and… then I would always be able to sit next to Amos.

I glanced over at Amos who was glancing at me. We made eye-contact, and turned away quickly. I tucked my hair behind my ear, looking down at my notebook and quills, biting my lip and trying to keep myself from smiling.

"Someone's in lerrrrrrrrrrrrrv…" commented Potter.

"Shut it, Potter."

"No, really, Evans. Diggory? You could do _so_ much better than the Hufflepuff Keeper. A Gryffindor Chaser _and_ Co-captain for example." He waggled his eyebrows. Everything was annoyingly Quidditch with the toe rag.

Flitwick started class.

I dutifully ignored Potter's outrageous comment and began to take notes while Flitwick lectured.

"…and now, I would like you to summarize the theory of Cheering Charms to your partner. It is always said that if you can explain something to someone else, teach it, then you have securely learned it yourself!"

Potter and I turned to each other. One of his eyebrows rose to his hairline and he gave me his trademark smirk.

"Because talking about Cheering Charms is what I live to do." He muttered.

"Shut up, Potter. Just explain the theory."

"You and I both know that we both know it, Evans. What's the point? I hate busywork."

"You're a lazy mass of dragon dung."

"Nonsense. I smell way too alluring. Do I not, Evans?"

"I-wh-what?"

"Take a whiff." Potter proceeded to "air" part of himself over to me.

A forest scent. Like just after a rainstorm, and the freshly watered leaves of the trees trying to find the sun… Cinnamon, a distinctly sharp spicy aroma…

A hint of musk.

Mmmmm.

I wasn't about to relay my traitorous thoughts to Potter.

"When was the last time you showered, Potter? Really, you should shower at least once a week. Especially with Quidditch and all."

Potter looked affronted.

"You lie, Evans. I smell beautiful."

Yes, he did.

"You're a legend in your own mind, Potter."

I gave up any hope of discussing class material with Potter, and decided to doodle on my precariously written notes, structured, bulleted, detailed…

And Potter was leaning over to me, slowly but surely.

Swirly… curly cue in the corner there... just ignore him, Lily…

His nose pressed into my hair, near the junction of my neck and shoulder.

I shivered, whether pleasantly or unpleasantly remained to be discovered…

Potter took in a deep breath.

I whipped my head over at him as he backed away.

"What in the _name_ of all things…?!"

"Want to know what _you_ smell like, Evans?"

"No. That knowledge is not relevant to my interests. I'm sure I'd hear if I smelled unpleasant, but it remains a fact that I do not need to improve or supplement my hygiene in any way. Thank you, Potter."

Flitwick regrouped and continued, this time about wand movements.

I began to take notes again.

"Summer rain." Potter whispered.

I tensed.

"Spring blossoms, just a touch, like smelling it on the wind."

I felt a little bit warm.

"Fresh, clean… like newly fallen snow."

I blushed.

"And as cliché as it is… like lilies. Only, towards the end of the season, when the humidity and heat of the summer give way to autumn, and the scent lingers just a little longer than it should."

My fist clenched around my quill. I was lucky I didn't break it. Ink would have spurted everywhere.

I licked my lips. Potter was watching me; I could feel his gaze on me. I refused to give him the satisfaction that he had actually… flattered me… I tried to use my hair as a curtain so I wouldn't have to see his stupid face.

He was charming. I'd give him that.

_Sixth Year, April 1977_

With sixth year came the reprieve from vigorous studying. I'd passed my OWLS, and NEWTS weren't until the following year.

However, with more recent displays of allegiance to Voldemort, threats to Muggleborns, and increased violence within school grounds came the escalating importance of nighttime rounds as a Prefect. I was on triple the duty I was last year as a Prefect. It was imperative that we thoroughly search the castle, were always at the ready, and provided consequences to students out after hours according to the activity. Remus was my counterpart, and together, for several hours, we would patrol the fourth floor of the castle on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Last year it was only one day a week, the entire castle.

This year, multiple pairs were patrolling any given floor of the castle.

Amos Diggory and Janice Curry were below us.

Benjamin Davies and Andrea Pine were above us.

Needless to say, this put my sleeping schedule on quite a strain. I had dark circles under my eyes, and I could barely stay awake in class. Teachers didn't accommodate Prefects with less of a homework load, and I couldn't find the time to complete my homework during the day, because I would begin patrolling right after dinner until about 1 in the morning. I would do homework in class, between classes, at meals, but the majority of my homework was done between 1 and 4 in the morning. After I finished, I would collapse into my bed, only to wake up to my alarm at 7 to begin the process again. Only Tuesdays and Thursdays was I able to live relatively normal, and I used my weekends to catch up and get ahead.

My social life was gone.

In fact, I had no life that didn't revolve around school.

But I was Lily Evans: top of the class, smart, talented, responsible Lily Evans.

I couldn't just… give anything up.

Up until that second Tuesday in April I was able to remain conscious during class.

Flitwick was explaining the effects of the "Warming Charm" on various items, living and inanimate.

My handwriting had become increasingly illegible.

Flitwick's face would double and blur as my eyes rolled to the top of my head.

My head would jerk back up as I caught myself before I fell asleep.

This was also double Charms. Just my luck.

"For the second part of class, I will be turning the lights down and shutting the curtains so that I might show you some slides of various diagrams…"

I heard 'lights down' and 'slides' and internally groaned.

It's like he _knew_ what a battle I was fighting to stay awake.

"Now then…" he pointed his wand and the lights dimmed. He waved his wand at the curtains and the natural daylight disappeared with a _swoosh_ of the curtains.

"Pay attention! What I am going to explain isn't found in your textbook."

The moaning of the projector started, and Flitwick began placing yellowing, crusted and chipped slides on it. I don't know how many slides there were. I don't know how long he took explaining each slide.

All I know is that once the lights were gone, I was too.

2 hours later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Then, it progressed to small rub.

Next, a shake.

A little rougher.

"Lily."

Let me sleep.

"Lily. Wake up. Class is over."

_Class is over?!_

My head ripped off the table. My parchment was blank. I'd taken no notes.

I'd… actually fallen asleep… _all the way asleep_… in class… for the first time in my school career.

Oh no. What did Flitwick think of me? What if… he probably was going to quiz us on this tomorrow… and I had no idea what he had talked about. Those slides… what were they? Didn't I at least see the first one? This wasn't in our textbook… I couldn't…

I was in full-blown panic mode.

I started to gather my things together, urging myself to keep breathing.

I'd be okay. I could fail one quiz and still pass the course…

_But I never allowed myself to fail!_

"Oi, Lily…"

"Not now, Potter! I've had quite enough of you!" I actually hadn't had _any_ of him, we didn't talk much.

"Lily."

"What?! Why didn't you wake me up, Potter?"

"You needed to sleep, Lily. Anyone can see that."

" Because of you, I have _no _idea what just transcended in class, and my marks are going to suffer for it! As if… I've tried _so hard_ to keep up, and stay ahead, and juggle all these Merlin-forsaken things I have to do, and… you don't have to try _at all_ because you're good at everything, and not all of us can be _you,_ Potter, and now, it's all catching up to me and I can't do it anymore, Potter. I just can't. Please. Just leave me alone. I need to…"

It all came out. I couldn't help myself. Ever since he'd asked me out after the fallout with Severus, I'd… I couldn't civilly remain in his presence. The bloke was _smart._ He was good at _everything._ He didn't have to try. He didn't study. He didn't take notes. He was one of those audio-visual learners, while I had to physically write things down and review them to remember them.

Potter gently held out a small stack of parchment.

"Take these."

"What?"

"I know. I know you're having a hard time. I also know that you'll still come out on top. You're stubborn, but you should accept help now and then." He prodded my hand with the parchment. I took what he offered.

And with that, he turned, picked up his school bag and walked out of the classroom.

I looked down at the stack of papers he'd handed me:

_Warming Charms and Their Effects—Slideshow Notes for Lily_

He'd… he took notes for me. I mean… really took notes. There were a good six pages here.

Potter _never_ took notes.

But…

"_You needed to sleep, Lily… accept help now and then."_

A tear fell and landed on his elegant scrawl. I sat down at my seat and began to look at his notes.

Detailed and annotated diagrams. Definitions. Concept maps. My style of notes.

_How had he known?_

This was exactly how I took notes. And they were neat, legible…

I'd never felt so… looked after.

Potter had changed. This action right here was proof that he no longer thought of just himself.

He hadn't made fun of the fact that I fell asleep. Maturity.

He certainly hadn't done anything rude to disturb me. Kindness.

He'd made sure he would make up for what I missed. Responsibility.

He had let me sleep. Because I'd needed it. Sympathy.

Taking the time to write notes for me when he didn't even take notes himself? Charming.

_Seventh Year, October 1977_

A lot had changed in those few months since Potter had taken notes for me. For one, he no longer bullied younger students. In fact, he stood up for the weaker students. He never _started_ a duel; that is to say, there were plenty of confrontations at the end of sixth year, but for once, James was not the instigator, but the defender. He remained top of the class (behind me and Remus). He pranked still, but did not victimize, merely entertained.

All of these changes, if you want to call them changes, more like, responding to the sense of duty, growing up, maturing… earned him a Head Boy's badge for seventh year. I was Head Girl. Needless to say, I was surprised it wasn't Remus, who had been a Prefect while James had not, but I couldn't say I was surprised that James had earned Head Boy in general. He had always been a natural leader; he was easy to look up to, to admire. He had as much on his plate now that I had had since 5th year: he was Head Boy, Quidditch Captain for the second year running, top of the class. And he took it all on exceptionally well.

And he hadn't just matured emotionally.

He'd also matured physically.

The shrimpy, translucent first year I'd first met had grown into a broad shouldered, tall, sunkissed man. His torso was shield-shaped. He wasn't overly muscular, but he was fit, and it was noticeable. His hair and eyes were the only things that hadn't changed: his eyes remained a burnt caramel with specks of gold and wisps of green, their alluring pull magnified by his rectangular-framed specs. His untamable raven locks, "sex hair" some of his female admirers called it, nested atop his head.

Over the years, I had been drawn into him, a little more. He'd always fascinated me, annoyed me; he was my competition.

I was in love with him.

This thought hit me as I ruminated on my way to Charms class. It was a double period, so I had 3 and a half hours to sit and melt next to James Potter. It was still warm out, being early October, and as I walked into the classroom, my eyes shot directly to James: his sleeves were rolled up to display his toned forearms, the white of the pressed Oxford shirt contrasting deliciously with his tanned skin. The top buttons were undone, and his tie loosened, allowing that much more of his neck to show itself, along with the very top of his chest. What had I done to deserve this torture? I was utterly mad about James, and to Hell if I knew if he still felt what he had claimed to feel these past years.

I sat down, awkwardly dropping my books and quills onto the table. James looked up and gave me a smile. He rarely "smiled," usually it was a devious smirk, a mischievous grin, crooked and devilish.

His smiles, on the other hand, were genuine, outwardly displaying his happiness. I saw them a lot, and began to think that maybe these smiles, so rare, were reserved for me.

But I couldn't get my hopes up.

"Afternoon, Head Girl."

I turned and mirrored his expression, actually delighted to be near him, "To you as well, Head Boy."

His smile, if possible, got wider. His hand reached over and caught a curl that had decided to stick to my recently re-glossed lips. He pulled it away and tucked it back behind my ear.

"Thanks," I blushed.

"Anytime."

Where his fingers had trailed across my cheek burned as if his very hand was the Sun. He was _my_ Sun. I seemed to revolve around him. He plagued my every thought, daydream, and dream. It seemed he was everything to me these days. I wanted him to be everything to me.

"Hello class! I trust you read up on today's material. You'll need your knowledge to assess and analyze the video that we will watch today. It will take 2/3 of the class period, the other third will be used to work with your partner. Watch for the common misconceptions and flaws presented on this topic. You should be able to discuss why they are misconceptions, and correct the misunderstandings."

The lights went out. The curtains shut. The video started.

The room felt smaller, more compact. With my sight basically gone, I was able to _feel_ all that much better. James' left leg was pressed up against my right leg, electricity sizzling wherever we were connected. I began to feel incredibly warm. I tried to concentrate on the film, I really did. James was leaning to the left, towards me, his head resting on his hand, causing his back muscles to coil under his shirt.

I swallowed.

I could smell him. His scent wafted to me with every miniscule movement he made.

How did he remain so poised? I wonder if he felt anything, felt as constricted as I did. How could he be paying attention when I was having a mid-teenage years crisis? Severe hormonal imbalance?

The familiar forest, cinnamon and musky smell first introduced to me in fifth year clogged my mind.

It intoxicated me. So much to the point, that I had no control over my next movements:

I slowly extended my hand, and grasped his bicep, curling my hand under his arm. I felt him tense, heard his breath catch. He straightened up from his previous slouch, removing his head from his hand and turned it slightly in my direction.

Was it the absence of light, or had his pupils dilated more than normal?

His bicep clenched with the rest of his body. He began to tremble slightly. My hand worked its way down his arm, reaching his elbow. I brought my hand back out from under his arm, and lay my hand palm-down as it explored the rest of the way down his forearm, running my finger in the muscular crease presented. When I reached his hand, he flipped it, palm-up, to intercept my hand. Quickly, he trapped it, weaving his fingers in the spaces between my own. I gasped. James caught my gaze with his, looking at both of my eyes in turn.

"Lily…" he whispered, his face slowly nearing mine. I stopped breathing. My heart was trying to punch its way out of my chest. It was all too much to handle at one time.

I pulled my hand from his and turned my face towards the screen. I refused to look at him.

I heard his release of air, and felt it blow some of my hair out of place. He clenched the hand I'd been holding and brought it under the desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him face the screen once more, but he was frowning, his lips pulled down at the corners, his eyes filled with…pain.

What had I done?

Despite our metaphorical distance, our legs remained touching.

After the video, it was a very awkward analysis we conducted. As a self-nominated party of one, I deemed myself the scribe as James and I discussed the film in the manner we were assigned.

Only after I had written the last sentence, concluding our assessment, did I realize that as we had been talking, our faces had steadily been getting closer together. There was about 15 cm separating us. Had our discussion been that intense? Or… was there something else pulling us together?

This close to his face, I was able to see the depths of his hazel eyes. They were quite beautiful, really.

"Lily, I…" James started… blushed… and then looked away, but not backing off.

"I think… me too." I whispered. James' gaze darted back to mine, and his eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. His hand tentatively reached up and cupped my cheek, trying to bring me closer to him…

"Well done, Mr. Potter! Miss Evans!"

I nearly jumped and screamed "OH MERLIN, IT'S FUZZY!" when Flitwick's tuft of white hair appeared in front of our table. I heard James curse under his breath. We broke apart, out of our own world, instantly.

Flitwick's hand searched the table, flopping like a beached fish, in search of our written assignment. James tentatively pushed it into his reach, quickly removing his hand as Flitwick's finally found it.

"You've completed the assignment. Since we have nothing else planned for today, you two are welcome to leave. And with 20 minutes remaining! Chop chop, students! Time is running out! Good day, Head Students."

I could feel myself blushing furiously. I gathered my things quickly, stuffed them in my bag with no regard of placement or keeping things neat and unwrinkled, and bolted from the classroom.

So embarrassing. I was practically throwing myself at James, wearing my heart on my sleeve. He probably found this a right laugh. "Poor Lily Evans. I give up the chase, and she starts her own. Pathetic."

"Lily!" I heard him shout as he exited the room. I was halfway down the corridor by then.

"Lily, stop!" I could hear his pace quicken.

I whipped around the corner leading me down yet another long hallway.

"Lily!"

Bloody hell. He was closer. Curse his athleticism.

I felt a hand grab my upper arm. He hadn't been _that_ close… had he?

Startled, I dropped my belongings and they spilled onto the floor. I didn't care, because James had wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed me into the wall. His lips were hovering just in front of mine, and it took all I had not to grab his face and press our mouths together.

He was panting from the exertion.

I was panting for an entirely different reason: his proximity.

"Lily… go out with me?"

I looked into the eyes I had fallen so deeply in love with. It was time.

"Yes."

James smiled and looked up to the ceiling. I kissed his Adam's apple, which bobbed nervously as he looked back down to me. His hand reached up once more and cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. Slowly, as if anticipating the distance to be covered more than the actual kiss, he brought our mouths closer and closer together.

It was absolute bliss when they finally met. Neither of us expected to react the way we did.

Usually kisses start gentle, and progress to deeper, more intimate caresses of lips; perhaps tongues tentatively reach out to each other to explore.

Not with James and me.

As soon as our mouths touched, we were kissing as if we had been doing it our whole lives. My mouth opened and his tongue delved in expertly, as if already aware of what would be pleasurable to me.

It was openmouthed, animalistic, wild and hot. Teeth clicked together, tongues explored.

It was the most natural thing I had ever done.

James Potter had charmed me, body and soul. Everything about him was bewitching in every way.

His hands grasped my hips and pulled us closer together. My arms had wound around his neck bringing him further into me. My stomach was clenching, twisting, flipping and flying. His hands… his lips… his_ tongue, _Merlin. I could die here and feel complete.

Hesitantly, our mouths separated. Both of us were wide-eyed, staring at each other incredulously.

Definitely an unexpected reaction.

We were both panting again… both for the same reason now.

"Lily… you have… no idea how long I've wanted to do that. You're… you're perfect. I've loved you since… I can't remember a time I haven't loved you, actually. Please believe me: it was never about the chase."

"I know." My hand reached up to explore his face. My finger ran across his lips, and he gave it a gossamer kiss. I smiled.

"I just… I can't take all of this in right now… I've wanted you for years. You're smart, funny… nice to a fault… beautiful…"

"You don't need to try so hard to charm me, Mr. Potter. You've already charmed me in Charms."

With that, our mouths met once more, not to come apart for a long, long while.


End file.
